Staging an opera like Turandot – here directed by Rupert Goold, who has set it in a Chinese restaurant – must be a similar challenge to running my restaurant. There are well-known opera stories, just as there are well-known Chinese recipes. Take sweet and sour pork: I can either create a classic version, or throw the rulebook out the window and interpret it in my own way. With the classic, I risk somebody saying, "You're not being original enough" – but an innovative dish can easily become gimmicky. This production was the latter: you couldn't taste the meat because of the many different sauces.

The first act was set in an instantly recognisable, 1970s-style Chinese restaurant with red walls, a golden dragon and a large gong. There was a real mix of customers: nuns, Elvis lookalikes, badminton players and clowns. We get all sorts of people coming into our restaurant – once we had one lady dressed as a vampire. At one point, a chef presented a head on a silver platter. That's part of a stereotype about Chinese cooking, because traditionally we eat everything from nose to tail. But the chefs in my restaurant would most definitely not serve bits of customers to customers!

In the second act, the chefs Ping, Pang and Pong go out on to the fire escape to smoke. For me, that was the best part – our staff do just that during breaks; it's a scene you'll see round the back of every restaurant. I could also relate to the chefs' homesickness. We have a lot of staff from overseas who have left behind family and friends. I don't think the words in an opera matter as much as the emotion – that scene had real sincerity.

The action moved to the restaurant kitchen for the third act. It was nice and clean, but it didn't look like somewhere people really worked. A kitchen is made by its people, not by white-tiled walls.

• Bernard Yeoh is the proprietor of Kai Mayfair, London W1; kaimayfair.co.uk. Turandot is at the Coliseum, London (0871 911 0200) until 12 December.